


playing hard to get (2 billion search results)

by tostitos



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Banter, Falling In Love, Fashion Designer Doyoung, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Switching, Volleyball Coach Johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tostitos/pseuds/tostitos
Summary: Dongyoung doesn’t pick up guys often, and that’s why he didn’t think anything of Johnny Suh after leaving his house the next morning. But then he’s there again, weaseling his way into Doyoung’s heart.(Or: Maybe he should have stayed for breakfast.)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 17
Kudos: 288
Collections: doyochi fest round one





	playing hard to get (2 billion search results)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my self-prompt for Doyochi Fest! Not the WIP I originally was working on for this fest but whatever.  
> Let’s see if you tell I had a goal of hitting 10k and used unnecessary and half-baked smut scenes to get there 🤪
> 
> Anyway please like this I might have half assed it in the end but I still tried lmao

Dongyoung spies his clothes laid nicely over the back of a red gaming chair when he wakes up beneath a thin, wood-brown blanket in a soft bed, dressed in a T-shirt that’s not his own. To his left, the blanket is sloppily made and cold to the touch and to his right is a guitar sitting on the floor with a string missing.

He rubs at his eyes, tries to will his light headache away, and groans. He’s not one to hook up often, let alone stay the night, but he’s been around enough to strongly prefer waking up first and quietly making his exit, offering little more than a whispered goodbye, than having to deal with guys who weren’t interested in him past looking for a good night try to make small talk with him as he looks for his socks and his wallet.

At least Johnny, the guy with the cute smile and the bad pick-up lines he met at TRANCE last night while going to see Jungwoo’s drag set, was nice enough to arrange his clothes in one spot.

Looking toward the desk in the room again, Dongyoung finds a clock and is a little surprised when he sees it’s hardly eight in the morning. He expected it to be later, considering they didn’t leave the club until after one and then they were a little preoccupied with things other than sleep.

Rolling out of bed, Dongyoung tugs at the hem of the shirt that doesn’t do enough to keep his privacy with one hand as he smoothens the blankets into place with the other. He hears the floor creak and looks up to a familiar face stopping in the doorway.

Johnny in daylight is even more handsome than the image in Dongyoung’s memories. His longish brown hair is pulled up in a tiny bun, a black snap hair clip holding back a strand not quite long enough to fit, and somehow, he’s making a plain white tee and Adidas sweatpants look upsettingly good.

“Oh, good morning.” Johnny smiles.

Dongyoung tries to offer one back and pulls hard at the bottom of the shirt he’s wearing. “Morning.”

Johnny’s eyes slide down from Dongyoung’s face and then back up and Dongyoung feels his face start to burn.

“Nothing I didn’t see last night.” Johnny has the nerve to wink and Dongyoung just knows he’s lighting up like a Christmas tree. “But if you’re personally uncomfortable, I’ll respect that and be in and out in a second,” he says.

“Thank you?” Dongyoung answers, not knowing what else to say.

Johnny chuckles as he enters his room, going to the opposite side of his bed where there’s a small nightstand and picking up his phone. “I just got some coffee going,” he says, looking over at Dongyoung again. “You want breakfast?”

“Dongyoung?”

Halfway out the door, Dongyoung swings around to look back at Taeyong leaning over his workstation, hands pressed together and pout in full force.

“Tulle, please.”

Dongyoung scowls. “No.”

The sun finally rose again in their tiny wedding boutique when they ran out of fucking tulle before their usual fabric haul and didn’t have enough orders from clients requesting it to justify immediately going to get more. When Taeyong latches onto a concept, he doesn’t let it go for anything, like a dog with his favorite bone, and Dongyoung thought he was going to descend into madness every time Taeyong hung up a new finished tulle monstrosity in their storage room.

Jungwoo laughs from where they’re sitting behind their own worktable, their legs kicked up on the top and ankles crossed with their iPad in their lap as they sketch.

Dongyoung turns around, ignoring Taeyong’s pleas, and walks out of their design studio. It’s purely symbolic, because Dongyoung isn’t going to simply not buy fabric he knows they need, but the meaning is there.

The shop they source their fabric from is, for some reason, closer to their boutique than it is their office. It doesn’t matter much for today; most of what they’re ordering he’s going to have shipped over and he thinks he’ll be able to fit the fabric they need at the moment in the two IKEA shopping bags he has stuffed into his shoulder bag.

Once he’s close to the subway station, he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket and he sighs as he pulls it out, praying it’s not Taeyong trying to get on his nerves about the tulle.

Fortunately, it’s not.

Unfortunately, it’s his mother asking if he’s free to have dinner at home this weekend because Donghyun and his wife are dropping by with the kids. He loves his family, but ever since Minah gave birth, Dongyoung can’t be in the same room as the twins and his mother without her asking about his relationship status and mentioning LGBT friendly adoption centers every five minutes.

He’s not shying away from a committed relationship; he’s just not actively looking. He’s twenty-six and just managed to confidently say they have a stable clientele at the boutique. There’s no need to rush. Someone good will come into his life when it’s time.

Nonetheless, his mother’s pushiness is no reason to miss a nice home-cooked meal and he messages her back to say he’ll be there as he stops at an intersection.

“Dongyoung?”

Looking up, Dongyoung turns to the call of his name and blinks at the man standing a meter away.

Dongyoung didn’t stay for breakfast that morning two weeks before, but he did leave with a new number in his contact list that he hasn’t really thought of much since then.

“Oh, hi.” He offers a smile as he pockets his phone.

Johnny returns the smile as he slides over to stand comfortably beside Dongyoung, transferring the backpack slung over his right shoulder to his left. He looks great even in sportswear, though with a face like that it’s probably hard not to. Dongyoung can’t help the way his eyes trail down to Johnny’s legs, shapely thighs and strong calves wrapped in tight compression leggings underneath a pair of navy-blue basketball shorts, but Johnny isn’t looking at him, so he doesn’t feel any embarrassment.

The streetlight turns green.

“Are you going to the gym?” Dongyoung finds himself asking as they step off the sidewalk to cross.

“Oh, no. I’m going to Sungkyunkwan,” says Johnny. “I run a volleyball practical course and am the assistant coach for the team there.”

That explains a lot, Dongyoung thinks, mind traveling back to their night together.

To Dongyoung’s horror, Johnny snorts. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Dongyoung stutters. Red quickly rises up to his cheeks and he just knows that a few weeks from now he’ll be thinking about how stupid he is for saying that aloud when he can’t sleep at one in the morning. “I-I mean... I was wondering about the sportswear and that explained it.”

“Mhm,” Johnny hums, chuckling. “That’s not what you meant.”

“I don’t think you know me well enough to say that’s not what I meant.”

“Then how about I take you out for coffee or lunch so I can try.”

“I...” Dongyoung clamps his mouth shut, forcing his lips into a frown. He casts a sideways glance at Johnny. “Did you think that was smooth?”

Johnny shrugs, smirking.

He looks like he thinks Dongyoung is charmed by that cliche segue into asking him out and it’s annoying because this kind of stupid confidence is exactly what got Dongyoung into his bed two weeks ago. Jungwoo once claimed Dongyoung is attracted to goofy jocks and Dongyoung has been trying to prove them wrong ever since; he will not let this man with his gorgeous smile, his Labrador bark of a laugh, and his thick thighs ruin that.

“How about Saturday?” Johnny asks as they climb down the stairs leading into the station. “Where are you going again?”

“Dongdaemun,” answers Dongyoung as he grabs the Bugs Bunny card holder his T-Money card is in. “And I can’t do Saturday. Sunday?”

Johnny’s grin spreads wide. “Ah, so you really were impressed by that pick-up line?”

They both scan their transportation cards over the reader, Johnny’s tucked into the back of his phone case, and make their way together to the platform for Line 1.

Dongyoung glances over his shoulder at the older man, huffing out a laugh. “It was cute, I guess. But you’re going to have to do better on Sunday.”

“Is that a challenge, Dongyoung?” Johnny raises an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, please don’t make it your mission to impress me with awful one liners,” Dongyoung complains as they reach the last step on the platform, joining the waiting crowd.

“Too late, baby.” Johnny smirks, throwing in an extra wink. “Challenge accepted.”

When the train pulls in, crowded as always, they squeeze in and find a spot in the corner. Dongyoung leans against the side of the car and Johnny holds onto the railing, the two standing across from each other.

It’s a painless ride. Johnny asks why Dongyoung is going to Dongdaemun and is surprised when Dongyoung reveals he’s a fashion designer for bridal wear which isn’t a rare reaction to his occupation. Dongyoung talks a little bit about how he chose his career, reminiscing on the time he pissed his parents off making a dress out of toilet paper for one of his friends when he was in early elementary school, and then Johnny talks about being a child athlete, dedicating his teenage years to playing all over the States where he grew up, and realizing that as much as he loves volleyball, pursuing a career as a professional athlete wasn’t for him.

“What brought you here?” Dongyoung asks just before a turn makes him stumble forward into Johnny who smirks when Dongyoung holds onto his arm to catch his balance.

Johnny leans in and lowers his voice to a whisper. “A feeling that coming here would bring me to you.”

He’s still smirking when he draws back, looking so satisfied with himself, and Dongyoung scoffs and slaps his arm before letting go.

“How drunk was I for your cheesiness to have worked on me the last time?” Dongyoung mumbles, just loud enough for Johnny to hear.

“You weren’t.”

He’s right; Dongyoung wasn’t. Dongyoung only had three drinks, cutting himself off after Johnny bought him the third one and sobering up over the course of the show.

“And you’re not drunk right now either, falling for my wonderful charm all over again in broad daylight,” teases Johnny with that wide, gorgeous smile of his.

Dongyoung clicks his tongue. “You don’t know that.”

He’s surprised when the train rolls to a stop and the doors open, Sungkyunkwan being called overhead.

Johnny glances at the door, equally as caught off guard, and adjusts his bag on his shoulders. He looks back at Dongyoung and chuckles. “You have until Sunday to come to terms with your feelings for me, Doie.”

Dongyoung rolls his eyes and shoos him away, unable to help a bashful smile. He watches Johnny leave and has to bite into his lip when, after moving out of the way of human traffic, Johnny turns and finds him by the window, waving. Dongyoung waves back and as the train begins to roll away, he wonders why neither of them messaged each other before.

“Dodo.” Dahee, one of Donghyun’s twin girls, reaches out for Dongyoung with a wide grin, clenching and opening her tiny fists when he steps into the living room of his parent’s house in Guri on Saturday afternoon.

A smile spreads on his own face as Minah sets her on the floor and he crouches as she waddles over to him. He takes Dahee into his arms and stands again, easily notching her on his hip. “Hey, Sunshine,” he says, lightly poking her nose.

His chest lightens when she giggles and starts babbling. From where she’s sitting in his brother’s lap, Minhee bounces and waves her arms around and Dongyoung shoots her a grin too before greeting his brother and sister-in-law.

“Where’s mom and dad? Both in the kitchen trying to out-cook each other?”

Donghyun laughs. “If you know, then why are you asking?”

The story of Dongyoung’s parents getting together makes him gag every time he thinks about it, if only because it’s so romcom he can’t believe it actually happened — two top culinary students who were always trying to impress their professors over the other who ended up working at the same restaurant after graduation. Dongyoung’s mom still brags about how she made head chef over his father whenever he starts getting on her nerves.

He glances down at Dahee who tries to get her revenge on him poking her nose, only narrowly avoiding tiny fingers going up his nostrils when he leans his head back. “Would you like to come with me to say hi to grandma and grandpa?” he asks, petting a hand down the back of her head.

At her excited yell, he walks around the couch toward the kitchen at the other end of the house. He hears his parents before he sees them, caught in their usual banter over how to prepare a dish.

“You call that presentation? You’ve truly lost your touch, love,” his father says as he stands with his hands on his hips next to his mother as she drizzles some kind of sauce all over a plate of thinly sliced beef.

She doesn’t even waver as she snaps back. “Your plates look more rushed than a hot dog stand outside of a high school but you’ve never had any class so that’s not a surprise.”

Dongyoung clears his throat, gaining their attention. “Can the both of you ever relax? We’re at home, not at a five-star Michelin restaurant.”

“The Michelin Guide only goes up to three stars, Doyoungie,” his mother corrects as she finishes with her plating.

Dongyoung rolls his eyes.

She sets the saucepan and ladle she was using on the counter and walks over to bring him into a hug, careful of Dahee on his hip.

“How have you been?” his father asks, picking up the plate his mother just finished with.

“Fine. Not much else has been going on but work.” Dongyoung steps out of the way when his father approaches to reach the dining space just outside of the kitchen. He grins down at Dahee when she pats his cheeks, sticking out his tongue and making a funny face to draw a laugh out of her. “Your so-called ‘third son’ has been driving me up a wall in the studio and I might have to inflict fatal bodily harm on him to regain my peace, by the way.”

“You be nice to Taeyongie.” His mother laughs as she turns around to go to the refrigerator. “Other than annoying you, how is he?”

“There isn’t much that he ever does except annoy me, but he’s good. He just finished moving into his apartment in Incheon so he’s going to have a housewarming party next week.”

From the refrigerator, his mother takes out a large glass bowl filled with salad. “Oh, that’s great. I’ll have to make him something for you to take over,” she says. “Any new boys?”

Ah, there it is: the relationship talk.

Dongyoung raises an eyebrow. “For Taeyong? Or...?”

“I’ll probably be halfway in the coffin before you bring me a son-in-law.” She walks past into the dining room, leaving Dongyoung to follow.

There’s a meal set out for a whole sports team on the dining table and Dongyoung would ask what the special occasion is, but he knows his parents don’t need holidays to be extra in the kitchen.

Dongyoung snorts and looks at Dahee on his hip. “Don’t let your parents pressure you with their passive-aggressive comments, Dahee-ya,” he says, earning a slap on the arm from his mother. Laughing, he leans in to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “Surprisingly enough, I...actually have a date tomorrow.”

His mother stares dead in his eyes, analyzing, and Dongyoung laughs again.

“I’m not lying, mom. If I was going to lie, I’d have done it years ago.” Dahee begins to struggle in his arms and he lets her down. He directs her to the living room where she runs back to her parents.

In the doorway, his mother tells everyone to wash their hands and get ready for dinner. She turns to him again. “So, what’s his name?”

Dongyoung smiles and slips by her. “I’ll tell you if we make it to the second date.”

Slipping through the human traffic to reach the railing on the street side of the sidewalk, Dongyoung leans against it and pulls out his phone. Johnny told him he was waiting at this exit and now all Dongyoung has to do is figure out where exactly he is. Sparing a glance up, Dongyoung takes note of how he’s standing in front of a Woori Bank and turns his attention to his phone to type out a message to his date.

“ _Hoo!_ _”_

All but shouting, Dongyoung jumps back, knocking against the railing. He looks up from his phone at Johnny standing in front of him, hair teased off his face to showcase his strong brows. Johnny breaks out in pleased laughter as he wraps his arms around Dongyoung's shoulders and pets a hand down the back of his head.

"Sorry," he says, still chuckling, "I couldn't help it."

"If you were actually trying to win me over, yes, you could have," Dongyoung mumbles into his chest. He circles his arms around Johnny's waist to return the hug and then quickly releases him.

"Are you saying you don't like the thrill of my spontaneous personality?"

Dongyoung presses his lips together and sends a light glare Johnny's way. That way, he doesn't have to admit that he doesn't quite mind it -- that, after the initial shock, he _did_ feel a bit of happiness and laughter bubble in his chest that he swallowed for the sake of playing hard to get.

He's always been attracted to guys who were close to the complete opposite of him. Call him a walking, breathing cliche, but he thinks opposites attract is a valid romantic trope to live by.

"I will consider this your first strike," Dongyoung says after they rejoin the moving crowd to walk to their destination. The cafe they're going to was chosen by Johnny, a locally owned business that he claimed was on the quieter side but just as high in quality as a populated tourist trap.

Johnny looks over with a cute pout and a loud part of Dongyoung's mind wishes they were somewhere private so he could kiss it off him.

"You're too old for aegyo, sweetheart,” Dongyoung says, turning down the volume on his thoughts.

"Whether I'm too old for it or not has nothing to do with if you like it or not," Johnny says, because Johnny always has a quick comeback for everything apparently.

Dongyoung only rolls his eyes and asks how much longer they'll have to walk.

The cafe ends up being just another two streets down and by the time Johnny is pulling open the door, Dongyoung has already decided that if Johnny asks, he'll say 'yes' to another date.

Looking around the rustic interior of the cafe, from the various ferns and succulents lining the front windows in yarn rope holders to the wooden and straw chairs with pastel pillow cushions circling glass tables, Dongyoung admits that Johnny surely did a great job at figuring out a place Dongyoung would like to take him. And he was right, it isn't terribly crowded.

"This is nice," he murmurs, mostly to himself.

By his side, Johnny hears it anyway, and although he doesn't respond, he wears a proud grin on his face. "Do you want to sit by the window, or would you rather sit in the back?"

Humming, Dongyoung glances around once more. As beautiful of a view the plants are, most of the cafe's patrons are sitting in the front and Dongyoung thinks he wouldn't mind being able to pretend that it's just the two of them and the sweet voice of 10cm playing overhead.

He says as much and slaps Johnny on the arm when the older man waggles his eyebrows and, out of the side of his mouth, asks:

"Oh, so you want to be alone with me?"

"If you told me that you've never been able to hold a relationship, I would believe you," Dongyoung teases, obviously not believing his own words. If anything, he's surprised Johnny is still single with that face and that body and that charm and that smile.

Johnny chuckles and points out a table along the back wall of the cafe where the sunlight from the front doesn't reach quite as well and Dongyoung nods in agreement. "You're so mean to me, I could think the same about you," he replies, continuing with, "But all that sounds like to me is that we were waiting for each other."

"God, you're such a hopeless romantic."

When they reach the table, Dongyoung circles his hand around the back of the straw chair to pull it out but is stopped by Johnny lightly grabbing his upper arm. He glances up and is met with a soft mouth brushing fleetingly over his own.

Blinking, he brings up his free hand to touch his lips as Johnny walks to the chair across the table and sits down.

"What was that for?" he asks, finally dragging out the chair so he can sit.

"I've wanted to since I met you outside," Johnny answers honestly, normally wild grin tamed into a bashful smile. "Now, no one is paying attention to care."

Pressing his lips together like it'll keep the ghost of Johnny's lips from flying away, Dongyoung hides a smile of his own. Nevertheless, there's nothing to do about the red he knows is surely creeping into his cheeks, but at least the shells of Johnny's ears are just the same.

Dongyoung turns his attention to the menu, a laminated booklet with each page dedicated to a different kind of coffee or tea or food.

"Do you have any recommendations?" He asks as he glances over the pages, finding his interest piqued every now and then and filing the drink away for consideration. There isn't an overwhelming selection, but it is more than he was expecting considering the size of the business.

"I usually get the Hazelnut Dark Roast," Johnny says. When Dongyoung glances over at him, he's looking at the food options. "But I don't know how you feel about strong coffee."

Sticking his tongue out in a gesture of distaste, Dongyoung revisits the drink that stuck out to him the most and after they press the bell on their table and a young woman comes to take their table, he orders a caramel black tea.

"Thank you for coming out with me today," Johnny says after she's left. "I had been thinking about messaging you again after the night we spent together, but I could never bring myself to do it."

"Really?" Dongyoung asks, feeling his stomach twist with an emotion he can't quite place. On the one hand, he feels a little bad because he had filed Johnny away as just another one-night fling but, on the other, it elates him to know that he had made enough of an impression that Johnny thought about him. "For...something casual?"

Johnny picks up that Dongyoung was referencing sex but trying to keep the conversation friendly in public because he shakes his head. "I mean, I wouldn't say that I wasn't thinking about getting to see you like that again, but, like I said when we ran into each other two days ago, I want to get to know you," he says. "I just couldn't work up the nerve because I wasn't sure if you'd be interested until Friday and you didn't seem like you wanted nothing to do with me."

Dongyoung nods in understanding. He didn't run out of Johnny's apartment immediately after he woke up that morning, but he could see how his rejecting breakfast could have made Johnny unsure of where he stood.

Tracing his finger around the edge of the circular table with his index finger, Dongyoung offers Johnny a small smile. "Just because I wasn't horrified to see you again doesn't mean I would have been interested in a date."

Under the table, Johnny kicks him lightly. "I know, but it at least gave me enough confidence to try."

"So, you're not always so self-assured in what you do," Dongyoung continues to tease, knowing he can get away with it.

Johnny passes his tongue over his lips and gives a small shake of his head and a barely there smirk. "Not when I'm trying to impress a man as gorgeous as yourself.”

“Sure, Love Doctor.”

When the staff from earlier returns with their drinks and a plate of assorted macarons, Dongyoung and Johnny settle into regular conversation.

Dongyoung could already tell, but they’re so much different from each other. Dongyoung hates coffee, Johnny loves it. Dongyoung prefers indoor activities, Johnny likes to be outdoor. They’re both dog people, but Dongyoung likes small ones and Johnny likes the ones that are as tall as him on their hind legs.

“Yeah, I guess they would kind of just knock you and your papier-mâché legs over,” Johnny comments, biting into the raspberry macaron.

“I can handle a big dog. That’s not the reason,” Dongyoung says as he leans over the table, parting his lips in a silent request to be fed.

Johnny obeys, pushing the rest of the macaron into Dongyoung’s mouth without question. “Okay, origami ankles.”

Chewing with a frown, Dongyoung narrows his eyes at the other man. “I hope you’re enjoying this date, because it’ll be our last one.”

Johnny holds a hand to his chest in offense. “Where was my second and third strike?”

“Just now.” Dongyoung gives him a purposefully fake smile. “We’re doing a buy one get one free sale.”

Dongyoung takes Johnny out to a coffee making workshop a couple weeks later, managing to score the last two out of four spots when he finds the ad online while googling non-stereotypical date ideas. The coffee shop is another locally owned business like the one they went to on their first date, but much pricier Dongyoung notices as they’re led to a long table out of the way of the general seating and his eyes sweep over the wide chalkboard menu on the wall.

Dongyoung rolls up the sleeves of his olive-colored button-up when the barista in charge of the workshop points them to a clothes rack with beige aprons.

“Here. Turn around.”

Even though he already has one in his hands, Dongyoung lets Johnny guide him around with a gentle hand on his shoulder and loop the neck strap of an apron over his head. It’s a sweet gesture, if not a little embarrassing, and Dongyoung has to bite back a smile as Johnny ties the hanging straps by his sides around his back. 

“Trying to start out in my favor after you fumbled it the last time?” Dongyoung says as he turns around, eyebrow raised teasingly.

Johnny looks around before holding a hand to his chest. “Who? Me?” He dips his head down to let Dongyoung put the apron he had originally pulled off the coat rack for himself over his head. “How could I have fumbled our last date when _you_ invited me on a second?”

Dongyoung would retort to that, but the barista calls for their attention to start the lesson and Dongyoung returns to their spot at the table where a small espresso machine, coffee grinder, four cups, and the other little things they’ll need. Following behind him, Johnny grumbles about having to tie his own waist straps, lamenting his ruined coffee shop fantasy. Resisting a laugh, Dongyoung hushes him and pulls him by the arm to stand next to him.

The workshop is simple. They are taught how to pull a shot of espresso which is simple enough for the both of them and then the barista shows them how to steam milk to make a latte.

Dongyoung tiptoes to peer over Johnny’s shoulder as he knocks the milk against the counter to settle the bubbles after Dongyoung finishes using half of it for his own drink.

“I’ve seen videos of this. I bet I could make a heart,” Johnny says, quickly glancing over at Dongyoung.

“Watching a video is definitely not the same as actually doing it yourself.” Dongyoung would know; when he started designing, there were a few times he’s attempted projects with full confidence because of something he saw in a video or a book only for the finished piece to not live up to expectation.

And Johnny is not the barista he thinks he is either, pouring the milk amateurishly and making a ‘heart’ that’s really nothing more than ambiguous swirls. “See, a masterpiece.” Johnny holds out his cup to Dongyoung who looks at it and then at his date with playfully feigned interest.

“It’s beautiful, John. Great job.”

Overhearing their conversation, their teacher for the hour comes over to get a look at Johnny’s art and just barely catches the guffaw he involuntarily tries to let out. “Not bad for a first try.”

That makes Dongyoung giggle and as soon as the barista goes to check on the other couple, Johnny turns to him with a pout that only has Dongyoung laughing harder.

“Is it so hard to get genuine praise these days?” Johnny complains.

Taking the cup from Johnny, Dongyoung takes a tentative sip, the coffee still on the side of too hot to drink. “You knew it was bad.” He licks over his lips and pretends he doesn’t notice the way Johnny’s attention shifts to his mouth.

The making of the latte signals the end of the workshop, but they stay long enough to finish their drinks (read: Dongyoung takes a few sips and pushes off his latte for Johnny to drink the rest of) before leaving. 

“The park is nearby,” Johnny mentions as they walk around in the vague direction of the nearest subway station. “If you're not in a rush to get home, do you wanna take a walk over?”

Just as Dongyoung agrees to the idea, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and looks at the screen and groans when he reads the text notification from Jungwoo. “You have to be kidding me.”

Johnny looks over curiously. “What is it?”

Dongyoung sighs as he begins to type out a response. “Indecisive brides changing their minds every other week when they know their wedding is in a month and I was already gracious enough to take their custom bridal suit request on such late notice.” When he sends out the text, he looks up at Johnny with an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry but I need to call her and my work phone is at home.”

Johnny shakes his head and gives him an easy-going smile but Dongyoung knows he’s just as disappointed that they can’t spend a little more time together. They walk together the rest of the way to the station but have to part before the gates, going in opposite directions.

Pulling Johnny aside, Dongyoung stretches up and kisses his cheek. “Thank you. I had a good time today.”

“Me, too.” Johnny finds Dongyoung’s hand, squeezing it gently once before letting go. “Tell me when you get home? And don’t get too annoyed at your client.”

Dongyoung snorts. “I’ll try.” He walks backward toward the turnstile, waving.

“I’ll call you later,” Johnny calls after Dongyoung taps his T-Money card on the scanner.

“Okay!”

The door to the office locks automatically and has a bell with an intercom. The most use the bell gets is during deliveries or when one of them has their hands too full to key in the passcode and being buzzed in would be less stress. That’s why Dongyoung is surprised when the jingle of the doorbell sounds while he’s in the middle of lightly pleating an overskirt, Taeyong pacing back and forth across the room as he tosses ideas aloud for Dongyoung to chime in on as he sews. Jungwoo is at their boutique and while they do have another member on their staff who helps run the store, Jungwoo wouldn’t just leave her alone for no reason.

Taeyong pauses in his stride, looking over at Dongyoung who also briefly glances up as he carefully pushes cream polyester under the buzzing sewing machine. “Do we have another delivery scheduled?” Taeyong asks.

Returning his attention to his work, Dongyoung shakes his head. The fabric he ordered in Dongdaemun that other day was delivered yesterday in full and, unless Jungwoo is waiting for something they didn’t tell Dongyoung or Taeyong about, there isn’t anything they should be expecting.

Humming a confused noise, Taeyong leaves the workroom to answer the door.

Dongyoung tries to listen over the buzzing of the sewing machine after he hears the faint beep of the door being opened, but he’s never been the greatest at splitting his attention between two things.

He doesn’t need to strain his ears because a moment later, Taeyong is poking his head into the workroom. “Dongyoung, baby, when you’re finished with that pleat, you have a guest,” he says, sounding much too amused and leaving an uncomfortable feeling in Dongyoung’s stomach.

Brows pulling together, Dongyoung frowns. “I have a what?” How could he have a guest _here_ of all places? He hardly tells anyone where the office is because there’s no need for them to know. The only who do who aren’t the obvious Taeyong and Jungwoo are Dongyoung’s parents just in case of emergency, his brother for the same reason, and—

“Johnny,” Dongyoung whispers to himself in realization as he reaches the end of the fabric. Lifting up the needle and turning of the machine, Dongyoung finally looks up to see Taeyong’s knowing smirk.

“Oh, so he _does_ know you.”

Pink tints Dongyoung’s cheeks. He sighs. “Yes,” he admits, picking up his phone from the edge of the desk to check the time. It’s just a little before six in the evening. They had plans to meet in Itaewon in about an hour for dinner and he wonders what made Johnny come here. “Did you let him in?”

Dongyoung stands and walks around his desk and across the room to the door. Taeyong stops him before he can leave the workroom, hand wrapped around Dongyoung’s wrist, and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I have questions that I _will_ get answers to.”

Johnny is looking at the illusion plunge A-line dress Jungwoo finished a few weeks ago that they haven’t gotten around to displaying at the boutique when Dongyoung walks up to him and lays a hand on his lower back.

“I never doubted your craft but, holy shit, these are beautiful,” Johnny says as he looks at Dongyoung.

It’s been a while since Dongyoung was the type to seek constant praise for his and his friend’s work, but still, he finds himself flushing in happiness at the compliment.

“What are you doing here?” Dongyoung feels breathless, once again caught off guard by Johnny’s spontaneity, and he hopes it’s not audible in his voice.

Johnny grins wide. “You told me you usually stop working at six so I thought I’d try to catch you so we could go to Itaewon together. Do you mind?”

Dongyoung shakes his head, smiling lightly, and Johnny brushes his thumb over the ball of Dongyoung’s cheek before leaning in to capture his mouth in a chaste kiss.

“I missed you.”

About three weeks have passed since they last met, Johnny needing to go down to Daegu for his university team’s away match one weekend and Dongyoung too busy with making alterations to that custom bridal suit and finishing up a few of his own designs. It wasn’t a lot of time, and they kept up with each other through sporadic texts, but somehow Dongyoung understands — that chilly feeling that isn’t quite loneliness, isn’t quite longing, but that evokes a desire to see another just as strong.

“I missed you, too,” Dongyoung answers, pressing his lips to the corner of Johnny’s mouth soon after.

The abrasive sound of a cleared throat reminds Dongyoung of Taeyong’s presence and he turns around and sees his best friend poorly hiding a smirk where he waits by the exit door with his hip cocked and hand shoved into his pocket.

“I’m going home,” Taeyong announces, a bit of a laughter in his voice. Past the obvious teasing in his expression, Dongyoung can also see the pride in Taeyong’s eyes at him finally seeing someone after all this time and Dongyoung doesn’t know which causes him more embarrassment.

Dongyoung coughs lightly and nods. “See you on Monday.”

Taeyong’s eyes sweep over to Johnny and then back to Dongyoung. “Yes, you will.”

“He’s going to give you an interrogation, isn’t he?” Johnny asks after the door swings closed and auto-locks behind Taeyong.

Sighing, Dongyoung glances over to Johnny with a small smile. “You have no idea.” He gently pushes Johnny, careful of the clothing rack behind him. “And it’s all your fault.”

Johnny catches his hand before he can fully pull it away and lifts it to his mouth, brushing his lips over Dongyoung’s knuckles. “You’re welcome.”

A scoff breaks past Dongyoung’s lips and evolves into full-blown, almost dumbfounded, laughter. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since he’s put effort into seeing the same person, but apparently there’s a line between unbridled happiness and affection and arousal that’s thin enough for him to swing right over.

“You are the _worst_ man I’ve ever dated.” Curling his hands around both sides of Johnny’s neck, Dongyoung drags him in, searching for his mouth again.

Johnny matches his energy before their lips even touch, his hands clutching Dongyoung’s waist with a near desperate grip that sends the small embers in Dongyoung’s stomach ablaze. It’s no less electric than the first night they met, each tug on Dongyoung’s lips by Johnny’s own — every squeeze of his hands to the subtle curve in Dongyoung’s waist — sparking a tingle that runs down his spine.

Johnny tastes of the weird sweet-but-not-sweet twang of a sports drink, like pure adrenaline.

“Quite a lot of passion for a man you supposedly don’t like,” he mumbles into Dongyoung’s mouth.

“When did I say I don’t like you,” Dongyoung returns, punctuating his words with a tug at Johnny’s hair and a sweep of his tongue in between his lips that puts an end to their conversation.

When they finally separate, Johnny has one of his hands tucked in Dongyoung’s back pocket and Dongyoung has effectively ruined the older man’s hair.

Choosing not to admire the plump swell of Johnny’s lips or acknowledge his date’s dark eyes trained on his face, Dongyoung tries to comb his fingers through his hair so it’ll lay flat.

“Well...” he exhales once he’s tamed the strands he messed up, “That was a....nice appetizer to dinner.”

Johnny, too, sucks in a calming breath as he stares Dongyoung down. “Dongyoung, I know we’ve been kind of taking it slow, but for the sake of complete honesty, dinner is the _last_ thing on my mind right now.”

That much is obvious from the way his hand still hasn’t left Dongyoung’s back pocket.

Dongyoung smiles innocently. “So, do you want the tour of the office or do you want to skip it and just take me home already?”

They do order food on the way back to Johnny’s apartment, but the Chinese food ends up quickly going forgotten on the kitchen counter where Johnny leaves it when it arrives five minutes after they do. There’s no time to think about the noodles getting soggy and clumping when Dongyoung leaves the bathroom after cleaning up and walks straight into Johnny’s back as he’s pulling a towel from the hallway storage, the older man’s shirt already discarded.

Dongyoung admires the lines of the muscles in his back and hums happily, hooking a finger in the waistband of Johnny’s jeans. “Now, what if I wanted to strip you myself?” Closing the short distance between them, Dongyoung wraps his arms around Johnny’s tapered waist and presses a kiss to the spot between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry.” Slinging the towel over one shoulder, Johnny covers Dongyoung’s hands with his own and moves them lower until Dongyoung can feel the button on his jeans. “I’ll let you take care of this.”

And taking care of _that_ is exactly what Dongyoung plans to do.

He switches the turn of his hands until he’s holding one of Johnny’s and pulls him along to the bedroom.

There’s a small, black, square mesh basket, like the ones you’d put stationary goods in as a student, sitting on top of the headboard. Dongyoung questioned Johnny’s choice of holder for his lube and condoms when they hooked up the first time, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t more convenient than having everything get lost in the sheets or accidentally flung off the bed.

Johnny moves without complaint when Dongyoung nudges him to lay down. Tossing the towel on the pillows, he cradles Dongyoung’s waist once he crawls into his lap and accepts Dongyoung’s slow, but passionate, kiss with a pleased hum.

Dongyoung drags fingers up and down the defined architecture of Johnny’s torso, feeling the way his stomach clenches at the ticklish touch. Just the jump of his muscles under Dongyoung’s palm makes Dongyoung stiffen in his jeans, which is kind of shameless, but Dongyoung has never been particularly strong at hiding his attraction to sculpted men.

“Okay, these have to go. You moving in my lap like that when I can’t feel it well enough is torture.” Johnny sighs, already working at the button of Dongyoung’s jeans before he finishes speaking.

Once he gets the button undone, Johnny gets his hands on Dongyoung’s waist again and flips them over so he can hook his fingers in the band of Dongyoung’s jeans and yank them and his underwear down his legs. When he sits back on his heels to toss them over the side of the bed, Dongyoung follows, rolling onto his knees to return the favor like Johnny said he could.

He presses kisses into the skin of his thighs, traveling around his cock to his sensitive navel.

Johnny sighs as Dongyoung traces the lines of his abdominals with his tongue and tries to suck a spot beside his navel.

“Come on, baby,” Johnny exhales, laying a gentle hand on the back of Dongyoung’s head and pushing down just enough to send a hint.

Rubbing the backs of his fingers into the full mound of Johnny’s cock, Dongyoung glances up at him. “Don’t be impatient.”

“Dongyoung, I was patient the entire taxi ride back here.” Johnny slides his hand from the back of Dongyoung’s head to his jaw. He thumbs at Dongyoung’s bottom lip, pushing down on it enough to slip the digit inside his mouth.

Dongyoung admittedly feels himself leak a bit at the dark look that passes over Johnny’s face, the older man scraping his teeth over his bottom lip.

With his other hand, Johnny takes himself out of his boxer-briefs, all tan, turgid shaft and fat, dusty pink head.

It’s a smart tactic, because Dongyoung can’t look at a dick like that and not put his mouth on it; it’s quite literally physically impossible.

And Johnny must know this, or see something in Dongyoung’s expression change, because he smirks and coaxes Dongyoung’s mouth open with his thumb on his tongue. He angles the tip of his cock at Dongyoung’s mouth, rocking his forward for it to catch on the corner of his lips and slide over the outside of his cheek.

“No?” He asks, both teasing and genuinely asking Dongyoung.

“Wait.”

Johnny immediately lets go of Dongyoung’s face and the younger man sits up to grab the sex basket off the headboard.

Sitting it beside them, Dongyoung picks up the lube. “Make yourself useful and open me up then,” he says, pushing the bottle into a taken-aback Johnny’s hands and then bending over to slip Johnny into his mouth.

“Shit!” Johnny curses, fumbling to not drop the bottle. “Baby, you can’t just—“

It’s an awkward position but Dongyoung makes it work. He takes Johnny almost all the way down to the root and then immediately comes back up to spit on the head of his cock and sloppily suck him back down again, starting a quick, messy pace.

“Okay, you can,” Johnny squeaks out, voice strained as he struggles to not fuck up into the damp warmth of Dongyoung’s mouth.

The first touch of a cold, lubed finger against his hole makes Dongyoung squirm but Johnny warms it up, tracing and petting the along the rim. When he finally pushes in and begins shallowly fingering his hole, Dongyoung pulls off and circles his hand around Johnny’s dick, pumping him fast as he muffles a moan in the tight skin around his balls.

A light slap on his ass makes Dongyoung yelp and he glances up through his lashes at Johnny, breath hitching on another moan when Johnny drags his finger out, tugging at the rim and tucking the tip of a second finger in.

“Turn around,” Johnny mumbles, dragging his fingers out and giving a squelchy tap to Dongyoung’s entrance that makes Dongyoung’s cheeks flair. “Still on your knees, preferably.”

“I thought you wanted me to suck you off,” Dongyoung comments. He pushes himself up on his knees and turns around so his head is facing the headboard anyway, lowering himself on his arms and pushing his ass out.

His legs part reflexively when Johnny cups his ass and pulls him open, those thick fingers newly wet again and nudging at his opening.

Johnny leans over his back and nips at the lobe of his ear. “You weren’t doing it anyway.” Chuckling, he pushes in and hardly stops until he’s in to the third knuckle, the palm of his hand comfortably fitting the soft curve of Dongyoung’s ass.

Dongyoung exhales heavily into the crook of his elbow, eyelids fluttering as Johnny begins to tease that spot that would make Dongyoung leak all over his sheets.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Johnny says, suctioning his mouth to the bone of Dongyoung’s shoulder as he prods deeply where few men have touched.

Shaking his head, Dongyoung sinks into the feeling of Johnny playing with his prostate. He doesn’t even realize the breathless noises he’s making until Johnny taps his ass again a couple minutes later and groans into his ear about how good he sounds. But none of that compares to when Johnny slips a hand under Dongyoung to grab his cock and strokes him in time with his fingers that he begins to properly fuck him with.

“Please get the third one in,” whines Dongyoung, trying to fuck into Johnny’s fist and rock back on his fingers. “Need your cock in me already.”

“Don’t be impatient,” Johnny tosses Dongyoung’s words right back at him.

He knows he probably looks very nonthreatening, but Dongyoung glares over his shoulder at Johnny who only grins and flicks his fingers right over his spot. “Oh, you’re such an asshole,” he grits out between clenched teeth, trying not to moan even as his eyes start to cross.

“Well…” Johnny stops stroking Dongyoung’s dick and pulls his fingers out. He places his hands on each side of Dongyoung’s butt and spreads him open. “You know, in English we have this saying: you are what you eat.”

“His name is Johnny.”

Dongyoung unclips a shirt from his laundry hanger and begins to fold it as he waits for a response from his mother on the line, his phone sitting on his pillows at the head of his bed. He finishes with that shirt and is pulling another off the drying hanger when she finally answers.

“Whose name is Johnny?”

Huffing in mild exasperation, Dongyoung sends a glance at his phone. “The guy I’m seeing. I told you I’d tell you his name if we made it to a second date.”

“Oh, you weren’t lying.”

Dongyoung snorts and carefully lays the folded shirt in his hands on the small stack of already finished ones.

“So?” His mother continues. “Tell me about him.”

There’s a lot to say about Johnny but while they’re dating, they’re not _dating_ and so Dongyoung sees no need in waxing poetic to his mother about a man who isn’t even his. He tells her the basics about his age, his nationality, his job — tells her about how they met (minus the sex) and about their first two and a half dates (minus the sex).

“You were always into sportsmen,” his mother says once he’s finished.

Dongyoung drops the socks he was pairing together. “That is _not_ true.”

“Don’t even get me started, Young-ah.” She laughs. “That big eared boy on the soccer team when you were in high school. Chan-something. And then Yoonoh who played basketball when you were in university,” she teases. “I’m still surprised you never called home to tell me you were sneaking around with someone during your military servi—.”

“ _Okay_ , it’s true. Please stop,” Dongyoung begs. He bends down to pick up his socks from the floor and quickly tucks them together. “It’s weird that you’ve paid so much attention to the types of guys I like.”

“Isn’t that my job as a mother? To know you better than you know yourself?”

 _Not like this_ , Dongyoung thinks to himself as he continues folding his laundry.

His mother laughs again at his silence. When she speaks again, all of the teasing has left her voice, replaced with simple motherly affection. “It sounds like it’s going well with you two. You sound like you really like him.”

Dongyoung looks at the next pair of socks in his hands. They’re just a little stretched out at the opening from when he pinned them up wrong one wash day. He tugs at the loose rim and pouts at nothing.

“I do,” he admits. To the extent that if Johnny decides he doesn’t want to pursue something with Dongyoung, it will really hurt. “He’s a good man.”

“I hope your father and I get to meet him someday.”

The fact that they’re not a couple aside, it’s a little too early for that, but the sentiment is nice. His phone vibrates and Dongyoung looks over at it, just barely catching the notification that says he has a text from Johnny. Putting down an undershirt, Dongyoung swipes at the screen and pulls up the message.

It reads ‘saw this and thought of you’ and under it is a screen shot of a Google result page, ‘playing hard to get meaning’ in the search bar.

Rolling his eyes, Dongyoung chuckles.

“I hope you can too, mom.”

“Do you come here often?”

If Dongyoung didn’t recognize the voice, he would have elbowed the man behind him whispering into his ear like that. Luckily for Johnny, the sound of his voice quiets Dongyoung’s defenses and so he only swings around in his chair and sends the older man a bored look.

Wiggling his eyebrows, Johnny quickly dips in for a kiss before waving at Taeyong and the Japanese man named Yuta who they’ve been sharing their table with in the packed club.

They’re in TRANCE again, Jungwoo set to perform alongside a few other Queens and Dongyoung figured that since Taeyong already saw them canoodling, it wouldn’t be a problem to invite Johnny to join them.

“Sorry, the first time we met wasn’t a great introduction. I’m Johnny,” he introduces himself.

Taeyong slightly inclines his head at Johnny, a grin already on his face. “It’s alright. I’m Taeyong, Dongyoung’s business partner and best friend.”

Johnny takes the seat next to Dongyoung, immediately sliding an arm around his shoulders. Whether it’s meaningless or a conscious decision to show Dongyoung isn’t necessarily on the market, Dongyoung doesn’t know, but he doesn’t mind it either way.

”What are you drinking? Do you want me to get you something?” Dongyoung asks, glancing at the three glasses on their table and feeling bad he didn’t order Johnny something in advance.

Shaking his head, Johnny waves a dismissive hand. “It’s okay; I’ll just have some of yours.”

”Says _who_?”

 _There’s the pout again_ , Dongyoung thinks when Johnny takes his eyes off the stage to look at him.

”You don’t want to share with me?” Johnny asks, exaggerated offense in his tone.

”I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

“I know where I’d like it to be tonight,” Johnny teases, wiggling a finger down the back of Dongyoung’s pleather pants. 

As he swats at Johnny’s offensive hand, Dongyoung’s attention is brought back across the table to where Taeyong and Yuta are watching them.

Yuta turns to Taeyong with a wistful sigh. “Fate is so not fair to give people happy relationships like that and make us sit next to it.”

Taeyong snorts. “Tell me about it.”

“No offense, Dongyoung, you and your boyfriend are really adorable,” Yuta adds.

”We know,” answers Johnny.

“We know what?” Eyebrows raised, Dongyoung looks at Johnny. “Since when were you my boyfriend,” he asks after Taeyong and Yuta turn their attention back to the stage where someone is doing stand-up, poking Johnny in his chest.

Johnny wets his lips as he gazes back at Dongyoung with those pretty, dark eyes. Grabbing Dongyoung’s hand, he smiles and it’s equal parts shy and confident. “I was hoping I could start tonight.”

Dongyoung’s entire stomach swoops, like he was at the top of a rollercoaster and Johnny’s words sent him straight down at max speech and hurtling toward a loop-de-loop. There’s mass chaos in his head, like the memes he sees online sometimes of people running around rooms that are on fire, as various emotions and reactions fight for a chance to be said. Through it all, he manages to stay on-brand. “I literally hate how smooth you think you are.”

Without a word, Johnny kisses Dongyoung full on the mouth. It’s chaste, even if a little rough, but to Dongyoung it still kind of feels like open-heart surgery. “I don’t have to think I’m smooth, babe,” Johnny mumbles, for Dongyoung’s ears only. “I know I am.”

“There’s no way you’ve scored someone like this before.”

“But have I scored you?”

Taking a deep breath, Dongyoung pays attention to the way his heart is soaring right now and nods. “Yeah…. Yeah, you have.”

“Fuck, you feel so good. Stay _right_ there.”

Johnny reaches above his head, pressing one hand flat against the headboard. He has the prettiest blush across his cheeks as he fists his cock, eyes rolling back in his head.

Dongyoung tosses the lube aside after pouring a bit under Johnny’s tight balls to dribble down to where his hole is hugging Dongyoung’s dick. “You really don’t know how sexy that is,” he says, planting his hands on the outside of Johnny’s shoulders and hovering over him.

He’s been feeling the telltale sensation of impending orgasm for a minute or so, but he thinks he can hold out until after Johnny comes considering that’s the first coherent thing Johnny has said in the last five minutes.

“What?” Johnny huffs out, but not without cursing under his breath again.

“When you talk to me in English when we’re fucking.”

Dongyoung purposefully pushes in as deep as he can when Johnny opens his mouth to respond, punching another throaty groan out of the older man.

“I— Jesus Christ— _What_?” Johnny, with his wide chest and finely crafted muscle and thick thighs, arches so nicely for Dongyoung. He’s absolutely gorgeous.

“When you’re feeling really good, you always use English. Every single time we’ve been together you’ve stopped using Korean in the middle,” Dongyoung says, chuckling a bit. “But it’s even hotter that you apparently don’t know you do it.”

Curling his legs around Dongyoung’s waist, Johnny presses his heels into his lower back, pulling Dongyoung in closer. He takes his hand off his leaking dick to cradle the side of Dongyoung’s face and pull him down into a wet kiss. “Sorry, I’m not paying attention to what you’re saying. Tell me later. I’m close,” he pulls away from Dongyoung’s mouth to say before licking into his mouth all over again.

Dongyoung gets his hand in between their bodies to stroke Johnny the rest of the way to completion, swallowing every ragged moan that Johnny leaves on his lips.

“ _Yes_ , Dongyoung, f-fuck, I’m gonna come,” Johnny exhales.

He was also on the edge anyway, but Dongyoung doesn’t know if it’s the way Johnny’s tosses his head back, revealing the bruise Dongyoung sucked into the base of his neck, or the way Johnny’s cock throbs in his grip as he comes, but Dongyoung immediately follows right after his lead.

Johnny gets his hands in Dongyoung’s hair and pulls him in, sweat-soaked chest to sweat-soaked chest, and kisses Dongyoung like he wants to reclaim all of the air Dongyoung stole away from him.

There isn’t really a moment where Dongyoung isn’t feeling a crazy amount of affection for the other man, but then and there, Johnny slipping chaste pecks in between wet prods of his tongue, Dongyoung is almost overwhelmed by the sheer feeling of happiness that fills him.

“Okay,” Johnny heaves a deep breath when he finally gets his fill and allows Dongyoung to pull out and roll off him, “what were you saying before?”

He asks in Korean and Dongyoung laughs as he shakes his head. Tying off his condom, Dongyoung slides off the bed to toss it in the can by the door.

“Don’t worry about it.”

After they both clean up and are dressed again — dressed meaning Dongyoung is wearing the lounge pants and t-shirt he was in when Johnny came over to his apartment and Johnny has only put his shirt and boxer-briefs back on — they relocate to the couch to cuddle.

There’s a rerun of a Knowing Bros episode with actor Kim Minseok on JTBC when Dongyoung turns the television on and it’s better than nothing. He tucks his head against Johnny’s shoulder when the older man slings an arm across the back of the couch and munches on a protein bar.

Dongyoung has never casually eaten a protein bar before, has never even bought them, but over the two months they’ve officially been together, a whole box popped up in his kitchen. He knows Johnny brought them, but he doesn’t remember when or why, and it doesn’t really matter. Johnny also has his own toothbrush over here, and he left a sweatshirt that Dongyoung is refusing to give back.

Just like Dongyoung has a toothbrush at Johnny’s apartment and a personal sketchbook he took over there once when he was thinking of designs for a non-bridal side project.

“Can I have a bite?” asks Johnny.

“No, but you _can_ get your own,” Dongyoung replies, not taking his eyes off the TV as he moves his hand away from Johnny trying to swipe his snack.

“You’re so mean to me, Doie.” He’s doing the aegyo voice again and Dongyoung rolls his eyes, snorting.

“Mhm,” Dongyoung hums. “I sure am. Love you.”

He lifts his protein bar to his mouth to take another bite, but he stops when he realizes not only his words but Johnny’s silence.

Lowering his hand into his lap, he tries to sit up, but Johnny holds him against his side. When he tilts his head up to look at his boyfriend, Johnny starts furiously blinking his eyes.

“Over three months of you pretending you don’t like me only for you to say you love me first,” Johnny says in a teary voice, faking a sniffle. “I can’t believe it. Say it again.”

Dongyoung scoffs. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Say it again.”

“ _No_.”

Dongyoung yelps when Johnny pushes him over and climbs over him.

“Say it again,” Johnny repeats, digging his fingers in Dongyoung’s sides and tickling him.

“ _Johnny_!” Dongyoung shrieks, trying to push his boyfriend off with one hand and making sure he doesn’t drop his protein bar in the other.

The more he struggles, the broader Johnny’s grin grows.

“I love you, too, baby,” Johnny says over the sound of Dongyoung’s distressed laughter.

Wanting the torture to end, Dongyoung shouts: “I love you! Stop!”

“Sorry, no can do. You took too long.”

“ _John!_ ”


End file.
